


Martis

by rexdaemoniorum



Series: Inner Circle [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Demon Blood, Gadreel Possessing Sam Winchester, Gen, Good Demons, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 07:15:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17178329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rexdaemoniorum/pseuds/rexdaemoniorum
Summary: A young, newly turned demon, Martis has already grown frustrated with the king of Hell, Crowley. But after being enlightened on the aging, dust-gathering destiny of the true king, Sam Winchester, Martis sets out to find the fabled heir to the throne and bring him his birthright.





	Martis

“You know Crowley’s not the real king of Hell, right?”

As surprised as he was at the news, Martis hadn’t believed someone so conceited and snotty was ever destined to be royalty.

“My father was Azazel,” the lady began, shortly picking up that the rookie demon she was speaking to had no idea who that was. “High ranking fellow. Wanted to raise the perfect king of Hell. So he bled into the mouth of an infant child,” she paused to stifle a chuckle at Martis’ face of disgust. “And gave the boy demonic powers. He was already a very special child, for many reasons. But now he was even more so. And Azazel chose him to take the throne one day.”

“But he didn’t,” Martis added.

“Well- thank you so much for clarifying! I was afraid that part was lost in translation,” replied the she-demon sarcastically. Martis looked down, unsure on how to continue, before looking back at the lady’s half-obscured face, noticing the tail end of a nasty scar underneath the big lock of hair.

The question forced itself from Martis’ lips. “Who was the boy?”

“Sam Winchester,” she answered with a whisper, as if people were watching. But in a part of Hell far from Crowley’s watchful eyes and ears, in a time where Crowley was often topside with his own affairs, there was no reason to be suspicious. “He’s nearing his thirties, now. Spent his whole life just running from his fate, y’know? So Crowley decided he’d keep the seat warm.”

She watched the man mull over this new info in his head. A minute or two went by before he nodded and looked back up at her.

“Where do I find him?”

* * *

 

The demon lady- Belial, she introduced herself as— pointed him in the direction of someone who could locate this Sam Winchester with a spell. Someone who lived on Earth, avoiding Crowley’s wrath for his fervent belief in the true king. Belial had called his hiding place a church; but, as expected of an enemy of God, it couldn’t be a church. It was some run down, shitty, abandoned house. When Martis first saw him he appeared to be a man of the cloth, but threw him off when he turned out to be another demon.

“I’m Father Saleos,” he began, shaking Martis’ hand. “I was told that you wish to seek out the true king of Hell..!” He seemed to be bursting at the seams with excitement.

Martis kept as light of a grip on the handshake as possible. “And you can find him?”

The priest nodded. “Indeed! Thanks to.. this little sample Belial provided,” he noted, revealing a glass vial with..

“Well, fuck, that’s- _blood_ ,” sputtered Martis, the last word coming out in a wheeze. Saleos turned to him, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“It is, my son, why- why so squeamish? Are you not a demon?” He leaned in, as if looking closer would answer his question. Martis stumbled back and cleared his throat, making sure to return his gaze with scarlet red eyes.

“Yeah, it’s just..” he muttered. “Why do you.. where did you get that, really?”

Saleos tapped the top, where a small sigil was carved. “It’s the blood of the late Azazel, with which he imbued his prodigy. Now that the same blood flows through the veins of Sam Winchester only, we can see exactly where he is.” He then tipped the vial into an ornate looking goblet, murmuring foreign words that Martis didn’t quite catch. Stirring it and then setting it down, he turned back to his guest.

“The spell is ready. Hold the cup in two hands and close your eyes, and you will see through his. You will know where he has been in two days and see where he is now.

Skeptical, Martis stepped forward slowly. His palms hovered over the aged silver of the cup before he picked it up and shut his eyes.

**The passenger’s seat of a car. Driving down a road in a seemingly endless forest. Mysterious and perpetual fatigue keeping him weighted down. A sign, reading CARIBOU, WYOMING. A diner lined with caution tape. Bright, blue lights.**

After seeing the name of the place, Martis opened his eyes again. What felt like an hour- long vision was only about ten seconds.

“Well?” Saleos piped up from behind him. “Have you found our king?”

“Uh.. yeah, yeah, I did..” he began, turning around. “Should I go there?”

“It depends on the circumstances, my son. Is he alone?” When Martis shook his head, the priest continued. “You must approach when he is alone. His brother is the biggest obstacle in your way. Come to me some other time and we will try again.”

* * *

 

Rapping on the door of Saleos’ “church”, Martis was taken aback when the demon answered the door almost immediately- in the same priest outfit as last time.

“Hello again, my son.” he gave a forced smile. “Back again to bring our king home?”

“You know it,” Martis tried to smile at him, but he couldn’t manage it. He’d been in Hell. He had seen horrible things. Heard horrible things. Personally, he thought Hell needed a human touch. But he couldn’t achieve that alone. The sooner he found Sam Winchester, the better. They proceeded to the table where the goblet sat from the last time.

 

Hands on the goblet, Martis closed his eyes.

**He wasn’t in a car this time. No, he was walking through a neighborhood. Pretty, lush bushes with flowers. Curved, suburban streets. SOMERSET, PENNSYLVANIA. Great green lawns divided by thin sidewalks. The sound of something droning, screeching, endlessly. An unknown, colossal thing was there. Bright blue lights. The weight of something incomprehensible, fitted into the back of his mind. It was there, but he didn’t notice it.**

“Is he alone this time?” Saleos asked again.

Martis didn’t see anyone. Didn’t catch any other people in passing this time- but something still lingered.

“My son, is he alone?” The demon repeated the question. “Time is of the essence!”

“No!” Martis barked out, his voice cracking. He didn’t dare explain how or why he thought he wasn’t alone, but didn’t question it. Saleos didn’t, either.

~

Well- third time’s the charm.

“If you would like,” Saleos began, making Martis take his hands off of the goblet, “I can check for you periodically and get back to you if the moment is right to approach.”

Martis gave him a brief nod before closing his eyes and looking through Sam’s one more time.

**Recent memories- night-time. The blue lights are gone. Standing on a bridge, surrounded by dark water. A familiar figure turns his back. His ears ring, his head burns, his vision blurs. He falls backward and gravity catches him while time speeds ahead. GRANTSBURG, WISCONSIN. All of a sudden, he’s in the present- a lovely, blue-sky day in a colorful field, leaning on a fence and talking to a stranger. The headache, though lingering, seems to be fading. The familiar man is elsewhere.**

Martis nearly dropped the goblet when he came to again. He frantically turned to Saleos.

“I think now is the time.”

”Really..?” Saleos couldn’t help but gasp. “You must go then. Go to him. Not..” he held up his hands, remembering it was a fledgling demon he was speaking to, “..not.. don’t appear right in front of him, but some way off.” He then bowed his head and patted Martis’ shoulders before stepping back.

Returning the gesture, the young demon promptly disappeared, headed towards the location of the would-be king.

 

* * *

Martis believed he mastered the demon-appearing-move. You had to appear right around a corner so nobody saw you materialize out of thin air. Most demons thought wicked things and hellish ideas- obviously, Martis thought his time on Earth and the way he walked it was of more importance.

But something else was obviously more important.

In the distance was the man himself. He was walking in Martis’ direction, and had taken notice of the way he seemed to be approaching. They converged down the same dirt road until they were close enough to clearly see each others’ faces.

”Hi there,” the man greeted him politely. “Can I help you?” He seemed to match the description Belial provided. Tall, fit, rather regal looking.

Martis let out a chuckle that was rather pitiful. “I’d very much appreciate that, Sam.” 

Sam’s face dropped at the mention of his name, and his hazel eyes narrowed. “Who are you?” Out of the corner of his eye, Martis could see he was reaching for something. He stepped back and blinked slowly, showing him those eerie scarlet eyes.

”Name’s Martis. I’m a demon-“ he could tell Sam was put off by this meeting so far, “-and I’m only here to talk. I promise.” 

“I am too,” huffed Sam. “..but I was just leaving, actually.”

”No, no- please, I just-..” Martis stuttered, raising his hands. “..Do you know who Crowley is?”

The man did a double take before rolling his eyes. “Unfortunately.” Martis couldn’t help but chuckle at that response.

”I feel the same way, actually. A-and, apparently, so do a lot of demons, as I’ve learned. I’d like to talk with you about..” he drew a finger over his neck, “..getting rid of him.”

“Well, this sounds like a trap.” 

“It’s not. I can assure you that. Crowley's been gone for weeks. None of us have even seen him!" Martis’ hands balled up into fists as he struggled to keep Sam’s attention. “I- please. If now’s not the time, some other time will do, okay? You’re the only one who can defeat Crowley. And I know..” he slowed down, aware of Sam’s disinterest in the throne. “..we would be very, very grateful if you could do that for us.” He clapped his hands together with a shrug. “And it sounds like a win-win situation to me.”

Sam’s expression slowly changed before nodding. “Okay- I’m a little busy right now, got it? In the middle of something.” After a pause, he pointed a long finger at his visitor before continuing. “Martis, it was, right?” He waited for a nod. “When I’m done here, I’ll summon you, alright? But if this is just a trap or a trick of some sort, I wouldn’t bother showing up.” He warned, beginning to walk off. “..Because I’ll kill you.”

Taken aback by his parting shot, Martis swallowed the uncertainty forming in his throat before looking to him as he walked away. “I’ll see you then.”

* * *

 

What seemed like weeks had gone by, and Martis was certain that Sam wasn't being serious with his promise. But just as he'd started to give up, he felt the call coming through. Sam had finally gotten around to summoning him.  Martis hurriedly gave himself a quick prep greeting before disappearing.

Feeling his feet touch the ground, Martis looked up to see Sam standing directly across from him, the two of them in an enclosed, dungeon-like room.

"Hi, Sam," began the demon with a smile. "I'm really glad you took the time to talk."

"Okay, what's the deal?" Sam cut him off. "I'm not buying this shit."

Taken aback by Sam's abrupt response, Martis furrowed his brows and wordlessly encouraged him to elaborate.

"You're a demon, you've got the eyes and everything, but you're just as- no, I'd say acting  _more_ polite than most humans. This reeks of a set-up. I'm not going to fall for it."

Martis stepped forward, feeling himself get stopped by an invisible wall before looking down and noticing the devil's trap at his feet. He resigned himself to Sam's understandable skepticism and looked back up into those earth-toned eyes.

"I'm just.. I'm desperate. I haven't been a demon for more than.. a couple years, alright? But something's wrong. I still.. feel." His face was contorted into something painful, something yearning to understand. "I may have changed, but something deeper.. is still me. Every other demon I meet is evil, selfish, just what you'd expect, and I'm still.. me."

Sam's head lowered as if he were attempting to meet Martis' level- and it worked as well as it could for the couple of inches between them. His expression softened in an indication of understanding.

"Sounds scary," Sam murmured, allowing himself to be a bit more vulnerable. "But.. what's that got to do with me? With Crowley?"

"I don't think the way things are is okay," he continued. "I've seen it with my own eyes. I made a deal with a demon when I was sixteen. I- I didn't know any better! And there was nothing I could do to fix it." His words came out weakly, his eyes losing light as he recounted his circumstances. He swallowed the burning sensation in his throat and changed the subject. "There's people- _good people_ , suffering. I think Hell needs a more human touch, you know? We need you to take out Crowley. The demons will listen to you.. and they'll help get you the throne, Sam." Having slowly chipped away at the uncertainty between them, Martis was certain he was winning Sam over. But he could sense him withdrawing from the conversation once again, and he wasn't sure why.

"So it was about me the whole time? Making me the king?" Sam folded his arms as he asked the question. "Why should I have to do that?"

"I understand you're scared of the same thing, too," he replied, recognizing the thing that seemed to connect the two men. "I found you because I believed in your humanity. The demons down in Hell still wait for you, you know."

Sam nodded briefly at his last point. "I've learned that."

"So they'll follow you, you understand? If you come to overthrow Crowley, I and countless others can back you up. And if you take the throne, what you do is up to you." He leaned in with a sly smile and bright eyes. "You can make things right."

After an exchange that felt like walking on eggshells, Martis felt the weight on his shoulders ease up as Sam approached him.

"Alright," Sam began. "I'm not one-hundred percent convinced, though. I'd like to meet more of these 'countless others' before we begin."

Martis' lips curled upwards in a bright, hopeful smile. "That can be arranged."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is the first of a series of fics of the various original characters in Rex Daemoniorum, my boyking!Sam ask blog. Check it out here http://rex-daemoniorum.tumblr.com/ and stay tuned for more!


End file.
